


Rabbit Hole

by Josselin



Series: The Wager [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5988870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josselin/pseuds/Josselin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We,” said Damen, gesturing at Nikandros and himself. “Together.”</p>
<p>“You fucked a slave together?” said Laurent. </p>
<p>Damen avoided answering by gesturing that Nikandros give him the wineskin back and drinking.</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Nikandros.</p>
<p>“Was there a shortage of slaves?” said Laurent. “That you had to share.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rabbit Hole

The fire crackled. The wood was dry. The flames jumped high up into the black sky and the fire spat sparks out onto the rocks. The six of them sat around the fire, far enough removed so that the sparks hit on the rocks rather than on their skin, but close enough for the light to cast shadows across their skin and for the warmth to carry against the chill of the night. 

Lazar sat to Damen’s left. Lazar was sharpening one of his knives and casting sidelong glances at Pallas sitting next to him. Pallas was checking over his armor and pulling at one of the leather pieces to check it for wear. On Pallas’s left, Jord was staring into the fire. 

Damen could sense Laurent to his right almost without even looking. He felt sometimes especially attuned to Laurent, with a cognizance of Laurent’s whereabouts. As though there were a cord between him and Laurent, and so he could tell from the tug of the cord what direction Laurent was, and how far away. 

Beyond Laurent was Nikandros, who was finishing his food, and pulling a wineskin from his rucksack.

Damen smiled. It had been a good day. The mission had been successful, no one had been hurt, and the only casualty had been Lazar’s hat, which had fallen off in the middle of a chase, and been trampled by a horse before Pallas was able to rescue it. 

Pallas had finished with his armor and set it away carefully, and was in the middle of a conversation with Lazar with his eyes. Damen suppressed another smile. It was only a matter of moments before the two of them made some excuse to slip away from the fire.

Damen could see Pallas asking Lazar a question through his lashes, and then Lazar answering with a shrug and a smirk as he put his knives and his sharpening stone away in his pack. Pallas answered the smirk with a genuine smile, and then he surprised Damen by turning to his left, away from Lazar and toward Jord, who was still staring into the fire.

“Will you join us?” said Pallas, in carefully enunciated Veretian.

Jord turned from the fire toward Pallas. “What?” he said.

Pallas frowned, as though it were his linguistic skills that had caused the misunderstanding. He glanced back to Lazar for help.

“Threesome?” Lazar said crudely.

Jord’s expression changed as comprehension dawned, and he looked from Lazar, over to Pallas--who looked hopeful--and back to Lazar again. 

“Yes?” Jord said, finally, and he sounded uncertain, but Pallas stood up eagerly. Pallas bowed perfunctorily at Damen, and then Pallas was almost running off into the darkness, pausing only for a moment to call to the other two men behind him. 

“Come on,” his voice echoed.

Lazar made a little, after you, gesture toward Jord, who followed Pallas away from the fire. Lazar fired off a lazy salute to Laurent and then followed behind the other two.

Damen glanced over at Laurent and Nikandros. All three of them were watching the drama unfold.

“That was unexpected,” said Laurent. 

Damen nodded. 

Nikandros was still staring off at the spot where the other three had vanished behind a tree. He turned toward Damen, suddenly. “Do you remember--”

Nikandros stopped. Damen remembered. 

His memory must have been visible on his face, because Nikandros grinned broadly, enjoying the shared reminiscence. 

“Remember what?” said Laurent.

“You were so into it,” said Nikandros. “You finished after half a breath--”

“Not half a breath--” Damen objected, but Nikandros simply laughed once again. He raised his wineskin to his mouth, swallowed.

Laurent was looking from Nikandros to Damen slowly. “Continue,” he prompted.

Damen was remembering back to a different evening when he and Nikandros had slunk away from a campfire. 

Laurent’s expression was beginning to grow impatient.

“It was a long time ago,” Nikandros offered. “We were just boys.”

“It was just one night,” said Damen.

“Well,” said Nikandros, drawing out the syllable. “It lasted--”

Damen cut him off with a wave of his hand, and Nikandros grinned again and took another drink from the wineskin. He passed it to Laurent, who passed it along to Damen without drinking. Damen drank deeply.

“Be more specific,” Laurent directed.

Damen raised the wineskin to his mouth again to avoid having to answer Laurent.

Laurent waited. Nikandros laughed again, and Laurent returned his gaze to Damen.

“There was--a slave,” said Damen.

Nikandros held out his hand for the wineskin and Damen passed it back to him.

“That cannot have been that unusual of an occurrence,” said Laurent.

“We,” said Damen, gesturing at Nikandros and himself. “Together.”

“You fucked a slave together?” said Laurent. 

Damen avoided answering by gesturing that Nikandros give him the wineskin back and drinking.

“Yes,” said Nikandros.

“Was there a shortage of slaves?” said Laurent. “That you had to share.”

“We played the rabbit hole,” said Nikandros. 

Damen refused to relinquish the wineskin.

“Played the rabbit hole?” said Laurent.

Nikandros nodded. 

Laurent pried the wineskin from Damen’s fingers and took a quick drink of his own. “What does that mean?”

“You know,” said Nikandros, though clearly the reason Laurent was asking was that he did not know. “When there are two of you, and you--at the same time.”

“When you what at the same time?” said Laurent. 

“Fuck,” said Damen.

“What does that have to do with rabbits?” said Laurent.

Nikandros shrugged. 

“I don’t understand,” said Laurent.

Damen took the wineskin back from him.

“I can’t explain,” said Nikandros. 

There was a drawn out moment of silence. Damen could hear an echo of Lazar’s laughter from around the bend of trees. The fire popped and a spark shot straight up into the air.

Damen remembered how the three of them had laughed as they had ducked away from the fire. The slave’s hair had been fair and it had glistened in the fire light. She had had a deep and throaty laugh, and she had laughed when she came. 

“Show me,” said Laurent.

Nikandros gave him a considering look.

“Take off your clothes,” Nikandros said. 

A log settled on the fire, and a spatter of sparks flashed. Laurent turned his head to look at Nikandros evenly.

Damen took a final drink from the wineskin and then set it down. “And let down your hair,” he said.

Laurent had hesitated at Nikandros’s order. Now, Laurent raised a hand to the tie at his neck that held his hair gathered back at his nape. He unwound it slowly. The tie slithered free and Laurent let it drop to the ground. It coiled in the dirt next to his boot. His hair spread out on his shoulders.

Nikandros laughed. “I forgot she was blonde.” He slapped his own thigh. “Of course she was blonde.”

Laurent’s eyes stayed locked on Damen. “She?” he said.

“It’s not taboo here like it is in Vere,” said Nikandros. 

“I know,” said Laurent. He held out one of his arms toward Damen with a peremptory gesture, and Damen began unlacing his sleeve automatically. 

“Have you?” said Nikandros, leaning in toward where Laurent was sitting. He rested a chin on Laurent’s shoulder and watched Damen undo the laces.

Laurent sniffed. “I don’t care to,” he said.

“That’s too bad,” said Nikandros. 

Damen finished with Laurent’s right sleeve and moved to his left. 

“There are nice things about women,” said Nikandros, sounding fond.

Damen could see Laurent’s skeptical expression. 

“Breasts,” said Nikandros, cupping his hands in front of Laurent’s chest in illustration. “Enough to fill your hand…”

Laurent glanced down, and the skepticism in his expression did not change.

Damen finished with his laces and pushed the jacket off his shoulders. Nikandros leaned back so that Laurent could shrug it off, and then Damen grabbed at the linen of Laurent’s shirt at his waist, and tugged that also off over the top of his head. 

Laurent’s hair fluffed out to the sides as his shirt was removed, resembling a dandelion at the end of summer. 

Damen dropped the shirt next to the discarded jacket and hair tie, and smoothed Laurent’s hair with his fingers. 

“Well?” said Laurent. Goosepimples were starting to form on his skin without his jacket on. Damen wanted to move him closer to the fire to keep him warm; Damen wanted to tuck him in his bedroll and climb in after him. “What happened first?”

“First,” said Nikandros, clearly enjoying being the storyteller, “Damen brought her off with his mouth.”

Laurent made a considering noise. 

“That is another advantage of women,” said Nikandros. “It is too bad you can’t know what that is like.”

“Can’t I?” said Laurent.

Nikandros sometimes had an overly prim sense of what a king ought and ought not to do in bed. Laurent, who had no such compunctions about Damen, found this endlessly amusing. 

“Oh, I can,” said Laurent with only the slightest barb in his voice. He gestured toward Damen, and it wasn’t the come hither of a maiden, it was the command of a king. 

Nikandros was still seated on one of the large logs they had pulled up to the fire; Laurent on a stump near to him, bare now to the waist. Damen moved closer to the two of them, kneeling on the ground. He placed one hand gently on the back of Laurent’s neck. He guided Laurent to bend over and arrange himself over Nikandros’s lap. 

Nikandros’s eyes had widened slightly; there was an element of disbelief in them still. 

“Hold my hair back,” said Laurent. He somehow managed a regal tone even when bent over another man’s lap while Damen was pulling his trousers off.

“Why?” said Nikandros. “Your mouth is not busy.”

“I don’t like it in my face,” said Laurent. Damen ran a hand gently down his back and over his newly bared ass. The skin there was goosepimpling also. 

As Damen bent down to take his first taste, Nikandros sighed and used one of his hands to gather Laurent’s hair back away from his face. 

When they had shared the woman, she had been eager and responsive. Damen had used his hands and his tongue and had been proud that he had pleasured her multiple times. Laurent was still. Nikandros ran a soothing hand over his back, gently, and Damen could feel Laurent give the smallest shiver. Nikandros continued his affectionate gesture and ran his fingers next through Damen’s hair, and Damen raised his head for a moment to smile at his friend before returning his mouth to Laurent’s opening. 

Damen knew that Laurent was unlikely to orgasm from this--he was hardly going to do so multiple times like the slave they had shared--and so he was not surprised when after a few minutes Laurent interrupted his work. 

“Stop,” said Laurent. 

Damen sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth on the back of one hand.

Laurent sat up. Nikandros freed his hand from Laurent’s hair. Laurent leaned in and kissed Nikandros, without tongue and almost sweetly, before he perched awkwardly on the log next to him. 

“What was next?” said Laurent. His boots were still on and his pants were half off.

Nikandros still looked a bit taken aback from the kiss. 

Damen stood up. He shed his own tunic.

Laurent stood facing him, as though his own movement were a reflexive reaction to Damen’s action. Damen was a head taller than Laurent, and when they stood close together, Laurent had to tip his chin up slightly to be able to look Damen in the eye. 

Nikandros stood behind Laurent. Laurent stepped in close to Damen, almost as though he were trying to absorb Damen’s heat into his body. Damen thought of the bedroll he’d unrolled for each of them, and of offering to move there. 

“What was next,” said Laurent again, shimmying out of his boots and trousers.

Nikandros took a step closer. “Then we lifted her up,” said Nikandros.

Laurent didn’t turn, but he tipped his head back slightly and to the side to glance at Nikandros when he spoke. “To fuck her.”

Nikandros nodded, but Laurent had returned his gaze to Damen at that point.

“At the same time,” Laurent said. The way he said the words had a strange quality to it, as though he were tasting them in his mouth.

“At the same time,” said Nikandros. “We lifted her between ourselves, and fucked her at the same time.” He had a faraway look in his eyes, as though his mind, like Damen’s, were thrown back to that night and that girl. “It was very pleasurable,” he said absently.

“For you or for her?” said Laurent, which was the type of thorn prick that might have caused Damen to back down slightly, but Nikandros only laughed. 

“Well, if the sounds she made were any indication,” said Nikandros, “She is likely remembering that night also.”

Nikandros took another step closer, pressing up against Laurent’s back. He was close enough that his erection must have pressed up against Laurent’s ass. Damen wasn’t sure if it was that, or something else, but Laurent tensed suddenly, and then he deliberately turned to put Damen at his back.

Laurent did not say anything, but the implication was clear enough, and Damen could see Nikandros understood it from the look on his face. 

“Are you going to let us lift you up?” said Nikandros.

“I don’t--” Laurent began. If they had been alone, Damen, who was attuned to Laurent’s hesitancies, would probably have let the idea drop or have suggested something else. Damen often reminded himself that Laurent was the kind of man who was willing to jump off a balcony based on the assessment that he could _probably_ make it to the other side, and it wasn’t always wise to encourage him.

Nikandros, who knew Laurent less intimately, and yet was still familiar with his insults, and his wagers, and his filthy tongue, had less reservations. 

“You can jump horses at a gallop,” said Nikandros. “You’ll be fine.” It was the right combination of backhanded flattery and a dismissive assault to Laurent’s pride, and it worked perfectly to rile him up.

Damen assumed that Nikandros was achieving this effect accidentally, but as Laurent glanced the other direction, Nikandros winked at Damen over Laurent’s shoulder. He was getting better at Laurent’s games.

Nikandros continued. “I suppose you are heavier than the girl.”

Laurent curled his fingers around Damen’s forearm, spanning the muscle. His hand was near to the golden cuff that Damen wore. He couldn’t wrap his hand all the way around Damen’s arm, it was too large. “You’ll manage,” Laurent said testily, reaching an arm back over his head to clutch at Damen’s neck. “Lift me up.”

Damen struggled with the logistics for a moment, placed his hands on Laurent’s thighs, let Nikandros reposition his hands, and then, at Nikandros’s cue, lifted Laurent up.

Laurent was a swordsman and at least a stone heavier than the slave girl he and Nikandros had balanced as young men. Nikandros moved in and took the weight of Laurent’s legs. Laurent balanced his thighs on Nikandros’s hips to help support himself. 

When Damen looked down he could see a view of Laurent’s abs in the moonlight framing the thin trail of hair leading to his cock. “You look beautiful,” he said.

Laurent rolled his head back to rest on Damen’s shoulder. “Fuck me,” he said.

Laurent lifted his head slightly toward Nikandros. “Help him put it in,” he directed.

Damen buried his face in Laurent’s neck and tried not to laugh, because it would almost certainly result in dropping Laurent. 

Nikandros coated his hand with a phial of oil from somewhere, and then reached beneath Laurent. Damen could see Laurent’s arms flex as he supported more of his own weight.

Nikandros seemed to be taking a rather long time. He grasped Damen’s cock with his hand, and stroked up it once, coating it with oil, and then he moved his hand again. 

Laurent twitched in Damen’s embrace. “That is not his cock,” said Laurent. “What is so challenging about this, Nikandros.”

Nikandros gave a low laugh, and then he grasped Damen’s cock again, and this time, he positioned it. Damen could feel the head of his cock enveloped in warmth.

“Lower him a bit,” said Nikandros, and Damen sunk in deeper. 

Damen could feel Nikandros’s hand still brushing around the base of his cock. 

“I have got it in now,” Nikandros told Laurent smugly. 

“Yes,” said Laurent, sounding slightly strained. 

Nikandros was still doing something with his hand. “You’re very tight,” he told Laurent. “I don’t think I could even fit a finger in alongside.”

Laurent cursed him in Veretian, the words so filthy that Damen wondered if Nikandros even understood what they meant.

Nikandros seemed to have at least understood the tone, and he moved his hand away and raised it to Laurent’s cock, stroking it until it glistened with residual oil. 

“Slower,” Damen suggested, and Nikandros tried that. Laurent, who had begun tense and as taut in his arms as he was on horseback, was slowly beginning to relax slightly back against Damen’s chest.

Nikandros stepped in even closer, and he reached in closer to Damen and Damen remembered one of his favorite parts of the time they had been reminiscing about, and he leaned in also, and his lips met Nikandros’s over Laurent’s shoulder. 

Damen finished with a nipping bite at Nikandros’s lower lip, and then Laurent was pushing at his arms and said, “Put me down,” just a moment before Damen had really wanted to let him go. But he lowered Laurent, his cock slipped out into the cooler air, and Laurent stepped away from two of them. He took a few steps away, and Damen understood that he needed space, as he sometimes did.

Damen drew Nikandros in close without Laurent in between them, and kissed his friend again. 

“Would you like?” Damen gestured.

“Please,” said Nikandros, and Damen sat down on the log Nikandros had been using earlier so he was at the right height to suck Nikandros’s cock. This wasn’t something that they would have dared back when they had shared a slave woman together. Nikandros would have been too uptight about Damen’s position, and Damen had been young enough that he had only just been starting to learn the joy of pleasuring others. He’d been so proud with how he had used his mouth on the slave woman, he remembered, which now seemed a strange and far away sentiment as he sucked his friend.

They retired to their bedrolls. Laurent walked back to the camp after a few minutes, and stole Damen’s tunic from where it lay on the ground near the fire and pulled it on over his head. He did not like to sleep naked. 

Laurent lay down next to Damen on the bedroll, resting his cheek against Damen’s chest. Nikandros was three feet away and already snoring. Damen had a fond feeling for him and deep wellspring of love for Laurent.

“Would you like?” Damen gestured again, offering to Laurent as he had to Nikandros. 

Laurent shook his head, his hair brushing against Damen’s chest as he did. 

They could hear a sudden shout in the darkness, and Damen recognized Pallas’s voice. “Suck my toes!”

Laurent chuckled, a breath of air against Damen’s skin.

“What happened next?” said Laurent.

“Mm?”

“With the woman,” said Laurent.

“Oh,” said Damen, warm in the bedroll with Laurent beside him, and only a moment away from sleep himself. “We did it again.”

 

**Epilogue 1**

The next morning, Damen approached as Laurent and Jord were finishing an exchange over one of the maps of the area. 

“Fine,” Laurent said, clearly a dismissal. “And Jord,” he said, an edge of cruelty in his smirk. Jord started flushing even before Laurent said it. “Just stay away from my toes.”

 

**Epilogue 2**

Damen and Jord walked back from the ring together after the practice session.

“Pallas invited me to go rabbit hunting with him,” said Jord conversationally.

Damen frowned, because the area around Marlas, while rich with pheasant and deer, was not actually known for its rabbit hunting. 

“He seemed very excited about it,” Jord continued. “He wants to go this evening. Lazar is going also.”

 

**Epilogue 3**

Laurent was breathless and smiling in bed; it was one of Damen’s favorite views of him. 

“What do you call that in Akielon?” said Laurent. “Chasing the squirrel?”

“Roasting the boar?”

“Tickling the fox?”

“Capture the mouse?”

Damen found a better purpose for Laurent’s mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Some [illustrations](http://cannedebonbon.tumblr.com/post/139212738319/delfeur-we-got-it-imore) by Bea and Candy as I was trying to work out the logistics.
> 
> [All of the author's Captive Prince fanfic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Josselin/pseuds/Josselin/works?fandom_id=3516977), [come follow me on tumblr](http://josselinkohl.tumblr.com/)


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